


Hunger Makes Us Human

by yggimarauder



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creature Inheritance, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, NO UNDERAGE SCENES WE FADE TO BLACK LIKE RESPECTABLE ADULTS, Tags will be added as we go, dark leaning harry, i dont know all the specifics yet but im gonna queer everyone up, this fic will be very uhhh queer left
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27606376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yggimarauder/pseuds/yggimarauder
Summary: Harry Potter is used to an unusual life. However, perhaps a broken ritual, two strangers showing up at the Dursleys', and an inheritance he couldn't even have dreamed up takes the cake.Armed with a heavy heritage and more political power than he knows what to do with, Harry has the next couple years cut out for him - especially if turning over rocks brings even more surprises.[a rewrite of an 11 year old story]
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	1. We Have Waited

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on a fanfiction i shat out around 16/17 years old, and no i will not link it. the opening paragraph reads like the opening for My Immortal, and i'd never read MI at that age; i will not make you go through such a horror. if you're arriving from said fanfic, i'd really prefer that you don't share the old one. given that the original had 16 chapters and not a lick of plot in any, i've really just taken the base concept and reworked everything.
> 
> also, despite having 11 more years of experience since then, i haven't actually written much, and i'm bad at it. great with words, bad with plot - if you're an experienced beta reader/editor and would like to beta for this, i would appreciate it so much. i can't pay you in anything other than visual art tho, so i hope you want some art.

[ _Here my angel  
Here my sweet  
These arms were made to frame you _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pg6DIWT_7WM)

The sky above was endless, mostly void and a dusting of stars. Deep blue, or purple, or black - the colours shifted when looked at too long, the brilliant lights flickering less like stars and more like Christmas lights.

His hands were full of something - blood, and grass, and lavender. He thought it was lavender. It didn’t feel like lavender, or grass, just blood, liquid and warm. He was in a sea of it; it was rising, hiding his stomach, his chest, his throat, his face, but never hiding the sky from his gaze.

He breathed in, feeling the blood, so much thicker than air, slide into his lungs. It swirled and sung inside him, and he reveled in it - it smelled like jasmine, it tasted like chestnuts, it felt like the warm flank of a beast, it sounded like a small choir. He stared at the stars, watching as the sky lost more and more of them, growing darker and darker, and the sirens sung him onward, back home.

The last star disappeared, and he sank, deeper and deeper into the ocean of red.

Unable to see sky or stars anymore, he closed his eyes, and the choir dragged him down, soothing him before he could even think of fear.

_We are here._

_We are here._

_We are here._

[ _Heaven meant_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pg6DIWT_7WM)  
[ _For us to meet_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pg6DIWT_7WM)  
[ _And all my dreams became you_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pg6DIWT_7WM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter song: Only Our Skin, Lamb
> 
> hmu on twitter if you feel like @yggimarauder


	2. Questions of a Private Nature

[ _The ankle trips a wire_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvWVWPfCAfI)  
[ _While phasing into oscillation_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvWVWPfCAfI)  
[ _We'll take it while we go_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvWVWPfCAfI)  
[ _And leave behind our reservations_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvWVWPfCAfI)

With a soft sigh, Harry woke from what felt like the first true rest in years to the darkness of the Dursley’s “spare bedroom." The shadows couldn’t hide the broken toys and items that still got piled in while he was at Hogwarts. Every year, it became a game of picking out what was new, what was old, and trying to remember what had disappeared, finally thrown out.

His gaze swooped over the contours; he had, admittedly, not spent much time yet this summer or last playing that game. When his brain was filled with static from watching a schoolmate die, when his soul stuttered over the memory of Sirius nearly being snatched from him just as suddenly as the man had reentered his life, it felt trivial and avoidant to spend any energy on something so...mundane. So utterly useless in the grand scheme of things.

He closed his eyes and rolled over, but stopped with a hiss when sharp pain of _some_ limb getting pinned spiked his brain. “Jesus, what the fuck?”

He stumbled as he slid out of bed, body off kilter and unbalanced. His head spun with vertigo, feeling too tall, like his center of gravity had shifted. He stretched out an arm and yelped when something large loomed in tandem; he twisted to see what was behind him and fell with a thud.

Staying still on the floor, he held his breath, ears straining to hear past his heartbeat, to know if his crash had woken anyone. A chainsaw snore rattled through the wall and he relaxed -

Only to tense up and shove a hand in his teeth to stop from shrieking at the sight of massive wings twitching on the floor. Breathing rapid, he shifted, eyes widening when the wings shifted _with_ him.

“What the _fuck?_ ” He concentrated, frowning slightly, and to his simultaneous delight and horror, the delicate joints curled, like a fucked up webbed fist.

_It’s okay, it’s okay, there’s gotta be an explanation. Did the twins send me something? No, I haven’t heard from anyone, and the owls won’t arrive until dawn…_

As if summoned, an owl swooped through the small opening in the window with a surety and grace that made him surprisingly envious - until it _screeched_ and made him fear the Dursley’s wakefulness again. 

“Shut it! Leave it and fuck off or be quiet!” he hissed. The owl looked supremely offended and dropped the envelopes they were carrying onto his head, leaving with another scream. As if on cue, Hedwig swooped through right after, landing and immediately swiveling her head around to glare at the stranger who’d left.

Waiting once more to ensure no one else had woken, Harry carefully turned the missives over. One was directly addressed to him, “Second Hand Bedroom” and all, from Gringotts. The other was addressed only to “Harry James Potter, Our Dearest” with no return address or name.

Recognition flickered in the back of his mind and he reached up to nervously push his hair back, barely biting down a startled yelp as he felt horns - massive, tall, coiling horns.

He turned his mind away from the second letter, focusing first on the letter from Gringotts.

_Mr. Harry James Potter_

_Deepest well wishes on your auspicious magical maturity. You are now eligible to access your inherited vaults; your presence is required for the initial opening, after which you will receive your keys. As with your trust fund key, they should be kept with only yourself and those you trust implicitly. Should any key be reported lost, the corresponding vault(s) shall be closed. You will need to prove you are yourself and pay a fine to reopen and rekey said vaults._

_Enclosed is an overview statement, listing publicly known properties, heirlooms, and other vault contents. For a detailed statement, your presence is required._

_May your returns be fruitful,  
_ _Griphook Graveclaw  
_ _Potter Accounts Manager  
_ _Gringotts Bank_

Harry skimmed the list, eyebrows inching closer to his hairline the farther he went. This was just everything that he was _publicly_ known to own? But - ah, he saw, much of it wasn’t from his own family. His stomach twisted unpleasantly, thinking about all of the people who had gifted him such luxuries - to him, at least, these properties and heirlooms were incredibly luxurious - for something he didn’t remember, didn’t consciously choose to do. The fact that no one saw his mother’s sacrifice and the power it held made his skin crawl.

Speaking of his mother…

Harry gently, reverently, picked up the second envelope. Unlike the one from Gringotts, written within the last day with fresh ink and pliant parchment, this one rustled with a dryness that spoke of years of sitting. The edges were yellowed, and the script, though he had never seen it before, struck a chord. He thought he could see something of his own handwriting in it, and it hurt his heart.

With a steadying breath, he carefully turned it over and almost didn’t open it. The seal had a crest he’d only had the pleasure of seeing once, when he had a quiet moment with Sirius the summer prior. He’d been soaking up anything and everything the man had to say about his parents, and Sirius had seen the way he twitched when mentioning the Potter crest; within minutes, he had drawn a crude but accurate representation.

_“The Potters have always affiliated deeply with Gryffindor, so the lions are all over, but I always thought it was weird that they had a tri-section instead of bi or quad…”_

Harry’s fingers traced over it, reveling in this concrete imagery. He distantly became aware that his skin tone was different, but he pushed the thought away and very, very carefully popped the wax from the parchment, letting it cling whole and unbroken to the top flap.

The flowing script from the front greeted him in the form of his own name, making his heart slip and stumble.

_Harry,_

_Darling boy, we hope we have seen more of your life than not, but unfortunately, should you be reading this exact version, we must have been lost to you longer ago than we’d like._

_If you are reading this,_ and here the script changed to something both more posh and scratchy, _we cannot apologise enough for not being there for you._

The soft loops Lily wrote in returned. _James is right. We have a lot to tell you, but it’s not safe to leave in writing; you deserve as many answers as we can give, so we have left a series of memories and a recording for you at Gringotts._

_Please, no matter what has happened to us, to you, if you can safely make it, you must know where you come from. We’ve enclosed a necklace...left to you as a babe. We charmed it as best we could to help you; from here and forward, my darling, we fear for your safety. You surely must see with your own eyes, now, why that is._

_With more love than we can possibly say,  
_ _Lily Evans and James Potter_

Harry blinked, then flipped the page over, finding nothing more. His heart hammered in his chest, his head swimming.

Looking in the envelope, he upturned it and poured a necklace into his palm. The medallion was etched pewter, showing a set of leathery, batlike wings - not dissimilar to his own - cupping a flaming heart. The chain was smooth, finely linked.

Harry slipped it over his head, letting the necklace settle under his shirt - oh. He shrugged his shoulders, feeling the way his shirt had burst into threads where his wings had, apparently, shoved through. Carefully wrestling it off and only needing to tear it once, he looked at the wreckage. At least it was just one of Dudley's dingy cast offs.

Stumbling to his feet, Harry went to the mirror. He frowned at his reflection - it showed him as he normally looked: brown skin, bright green eyes, dark unruly hair. Definitely no wings or horns. But his hands were grey…

Taking the medallion back off, he watched his features change immediately. Dark grey skin, deep green eyes, flatter and silkier waves of hair with a blue tone instead of brown. And his bones - even setting aside the _new limbs_ \- had shifted: cheekbones higher, more aristocratic than what he had inherited from his dad; taller with leaner proportions. Horns, of course, sprouted from his head - he parted the hair at the base, shifting awkwardly to examine how the skin and keratin met.

He bonked a horntip into the wall and cursed, not at all appreciating the way his skull felt rattled. Something twitched irritably around his leg and he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his scream; pulling his pyjamas down freed a _tail_ that had been coiled around his left leg.

Nothing made sense, but he could feel the way that something new, something game changing, would come with this. He stretched, feeling his wings brush against the piles of rubbish. It made him anxious, having so much _more_ of himself filling the room - a room which had been small before and felt too close to the cupboard now for his comfort.

There wasn’t much he could do, though, but wait for morning and hope that he could figure some way to Gringotts. Maybe he could take the Knight Bus.

Putting the medallion back on, Harry crawled into bed, searching half-heartedly for a new comfortable sleeping position with these huge honking wings of his. Eventually, as the sky gained the smallest amount of light, his mind slipped under the soft caress of unconsciousness.

[ _I'm lazy and tame and the chimes always blow_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvWVWPfCAfI)  
[ _A glimmering sound on the breeze when you go_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvWVWPfCAfI)  
[ _It's never a shame and I've learned to live with the worms_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvWVWPfCAfI)  
[ _Underground_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvWVWPfCAfI)  
[ _Getting down the germs_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvWVWPfCAfI)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter song: Getting Down the Germs, Gerard Way
> 
> twitter: @yggimarauder


	3. There's A Million Ways It Could Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont have a schedule but i did mean to update sooner; pandemic holidays, amirite
> 
> edit: sorry for minor chapter number confusion, i did a dumb; it should be fixed now

[ _You've got these little things_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xDf-_8KvGM)  
[ _You wanted something more_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xDf-_8KvGM)  
[ _You'll either get it or guess you won't_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xDf-_8KvGM)

When Harry next woke, he shot up in bed, hair ruffled and ears perked; loud arguing from downstairs was filtering up the stairs, but it wasn’t just Vernon and Dudley bellowing over the TV or some other entertaining nonsense. He twisted his head with a frown, trying to place the other voice - no, voices - to no avail.

He scrambled out of the bed into a defensive position, wings arched and hoping to look imposing. Belatedly, with a glance in the mirror, he realised that his medallion was still on and no one could see the wings. Better for him, probably.

Harry’s eyes went back to the door when the distinctive sound of Vernon stomping up the stairs reached him. “I’LL NOT HAVE ANY OF YOU FREAKY PEOPLE IN MY HOUSE! ONE’S ENOUGH AND THE UNGRATEFUL WHELP’LL STAY! YOUR DUMBLE-MAN SAID SO!”

The replying voice was too low to make out words, but must have said _something_ intense to receive the indignant spluttering from both Vernon _and_ Petunia, her high voice wafting up with ease. She just barely got in a, “You wait until we tell him about this!” that made his brain replace her with _Malfoy_ before the locks were being undone.

The door swung open, the yellow hall light competing with the half-blinded window, and Harry shifted, wishing desperately for his wand -

Which appeared in his hand, right as a stranger stepped in.

The man was dressed impeccably, suit and shirt and probably even his socks tailored to present an unnerving, intimidating man. His hair was slick, but not like Malfoy’s pompous hardened turtle-shell of a gel-slick - more like he had emerged with the grace of a god from a pool of water and donned his clothes.

He was decidedly, distinctly too well put together to possibly be a wizard, and that red flag had Harry’s entire system firing up.

Another individual stepped in as well, and Harry was almost thrown by how incredibly neutral they looked in their matching suit, just as tailored, just as slick.

They dropped to one knee together, bowing their heads. Together, they spoke, “Your Highness, we have come to take you Home.”

“H-highness?” Harry was not proud of the way his voice cracked.

The two stood with a fluid motion, and Harry found himself looking not at the two humans who had stepped in, but two individuals with wings and horns and tails, like him.

“You are Prince Haven Orpheus, Heir to Lordship of the Underworld, and you have been stolen.”

\---

It was painfully quiet in the Dursley’s living room. Vernon was fuming and stomping upstairs, Dudley was pretending the TV in his room could be loud enough to drown out their existence, and Petunia was snooping from the kitchen; every time she glanced around the doorframe at them, Harry swore she looked like she was holding a cigarette. He didn’t smell any smoke - maybe she was wishing for one.

Harry’s brain kept shying away from the news the demons - _I’m a demon???_ \- had given him.

“Prince Haven -”

“Harry.”

As if he had never corrected them, the gender-neutral one - Rune, they said their name was - continued, “Your Highness, we understand that this must be a shock -”

Harry couldn’t stop the laugh that crawled out of his throat and tasted like iron. “Every part of my life is a shock.”

“I’m sure.” Rune’s gentle tone both soothed him and made him bristle. “However, it is imperative that you come with us.”

Harry opened his mouth, brows furrowed deeply, but stopped at the sight of his own hands. He couldn’t even _argue_ against the fact that at least _something_ weird had happened, seeing his grey skin.

Lifting the medallion off, he twitched at Petunia’s sharp gasp from the kitchen door. “My...Lily and James left this for me with a letter; they said they found it with me, and enchanted it.” He looked up at the two demons, unnerved to find both taking in his demonic features with intensity.

Splinter, the man, finally looked at the medallion proper. “That was a necklace your mother, Queen Cypher, wore everyday without fail.”

The sentiment behind that plain statement stabbed Harry deeper than he thought it would, and he touched his chest as though he’d been physically hurt.

His parents...Lily and James weren’t his biological parents. His birth parents were demons, and rulers of the Underworld, a secretive pseudo government and alliance between multiple species, and he was slated to rule it. But, of course, his parents had died, leaving the alliance to slowly crumble into bickering, and now its factions were being enticed and threatened by Lord Voldemort.

He touched the letter from his...Lily and James, hidden in his pocket.

“They also said they left something for me at Gringotts. I have to have it.”

Splinter shook his head sharply. “That is an unnecessary risk.”

Harry scowled. “Look, they say they left answers. You say I’m stolen, but you don’t know why. You probably want answers just as bad as I do, yeah?” Splinter sat back, curling his lip in disdain, and Harry couldn’t help himself: “Besides, if I’m your Prince, you gotta do what I say, big boy.”

Rune turned away and Harry _graciously_ pretended he didn’t see their tiny smile.

It was a risk, going with complete strangers saying he was a _Prince_ of all things, but honestly, he might as well. Between yearly death-defying escapades lending a hand to his adrenaline addiction and the yearning for answers, after a lifetime of none, after a _year_ \- no, more, a year and a half? - of being _ignored_ …

The urge to breach past what felt like the last thin wall between him and his own past was extreme.

Besides, if the adults in the wizarding world didn’t want him to trust strangers showing up to dump his unknown mystical backstory on him and then whisk him away, maybe they shouldn’t have done just that themselves.

“Well, if that’s all settled then,” Splinter and Rune stood in unison (and Harry was impressed and intimidated). “Shall we?”

“What?” Harry stood, hesitating. “ _Now?_ ”

“Of course now. The sooner we get started, the more we can prepare you.”

Harry didn’t like the sound of that. “Prepare me?”

“Your Highness, no offense is meant, but you have spent the years you were to be learning how to rule your kingdom on...not that.” Rune snapped a swirling bronze bracelet together over their wrist and their demonic appearance faded to their human one. Splinter followed suit with a twist of his large, dark ring. “We must prepare you not just to hold a throne and the peoples under its protection, but for a broken landscape that you will have to rally back to you, away from the Dark Lord who has been ravaging us all.”

“You’re a prince?”

Harry startled, turning and opening his wings - surprised further when _all three_ Dursleys flinched slightly. He hadn’t even realised that the sounds from upstairs had stopped. Dudley, huddled between his parents and looking less scared than them, was watching Harry with an unreadable look, waiting for an answer.

“Uh...yeah, I guess I am.”

Dudley frowned and seemed to process the information. “Alright. Wish you would’ve told me. I would’ve been nicer.”

Hysterical laughter bubbled from Harry. “That’s - I mean, I just found out! And - and you should just be nice to people, Dudley, whether they’re a prince or not.”

“I should?” The concept sounded so flooring and new to Dudley that Harry’s bite disappeared. He stepped closer, pausing when Vernon and Petunia flinched, but still gently patted Dudley’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Dud. Being nice to people should be the baseline, and you be mean only when you have to.”

Dudley was definitely uncomfortable being so close to Harry, water-blue eyes shifting to his horns and wings multiple times, but he nodded, and Harry stepped back.

“Okay, well, I’ll need my things from the cupboard, Au- Petunia.”

Her long, horsey face pinched, and she looked at him, then the two other demons shrewdly. With a decisive nod, she ushered her family away and unlocked the cupboard.

“Vernon, if you could.”

Vernon looked like if anyone other than Petunia had addressed him, he would have exploded. As it was, he angrily began pulling Harry’s belongings out and she turned to look at Harry.

“You won’t be coming back.”

Harry heard the ghost of a question in her statement and glanced back at Rune and Splinter. “I, uh...I hope not.” He ignored the guilt that twanged through him as Dudley seemed...disappointed to hear. “I…might see you around?”

Neither Vernon or Petunia seemed to be particularly thrilled, but maybe Dudley’s tiny happy smile was worth the half-promise.

Harry slipped the medallion on over his head, and the show of magic left Dudley with wary stars in his eyes while Vernon and Petunia had gone ashen. He reached for his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage and then stopped, looking back at his...guards? “Er, would either of you happen to be wizards?”

Splinter somehow achieved added disdain without twitching a muscle, and Rune simply held their hand out; the trunk flew toward them and shrank as it hit their palm. “No, but one doesn’t need to be a wizard to use magic.”

There were no more goodbyes as he gathered up his armful of other things and followed his guards out of Number 4 Privet Drive.

[ _So let's go, we'll take it out of here  
I think I'm ready to leave, I'm ready to live _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xDf-_8KvGM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter song: Ready To Go, Panic! at the Disco
> 
> twitter: @yggimarauder


	4. Just the Basic Facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> previously: harry has woken to a demonic inheritance and two demons claiming he is the prince of the underworld, with whom he has left the dursleys'

__

[ _I hear you're feeling down  
Well I can ease your pain  
Get you on your feet again  
Relax _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lsCEgcRozY)

Harry played with the medallion, pretending that he didn’t know that his two personal guards were pretending to give him privacy. They were both up front, and he was alone in the very spacious back of a sleek, quiet, smooth-riding black car.

As they left Privet Drive, Harry caught sight of a cat with distinctly rectangular markings around her eyes and sheepishly waved. For her part, the cat looked decidedly peeved and more than a little panicked, standing up and whipping her tail.

As the hour passed, Splinter and Rune made no effort to provide conversation, and Harry was content to stew in the charged silence, keeping an eye on his surroundings as they wove through traffic into London’s heart. The demons found (expensive valet, _is that really necessary_ ) parking and flanked Harry as they walked towards The Leaky Cauldron.

“Uh, ehm, actually, wait, should I -”

“Go without us, ahead or behind, to distance or hide yourself from the patrons?” Rune shot him an unimpressed look. “I think not, Young Prince. We can’t risk losing you again. It will do well to show the wizarding world that you are taking your security seriously; surely they will expect a known enemy of a Dark Lord to have protection. And _you_ requested this. Spine up and follow through, or lead not at all.”

It felt like a very delicate slap to the face - no true pain, but more hurt pride than Harry thought he’d feel. He didn’t even fully believe this Prince nonsense and it hurt. But they were right, and with a deep sigh, he kept pace with them, Splinter holding the door for them both.

The pub fell quiet in an eerie wave. He was _definitely_ noticed - but so were his guards, and no one approached. Splinter led them through to the back wall, and Harry felt every eye on him acutely. Only Tom, paused during a pour, said a quiet, “Mr. Potter,” to which he nodded in response.

And then they were in the back and largely hidden from sight, and the sound returned to the pub. Harry just began to make out distinct _“did you see him?!”_ s when the rumble of the bricks drowned it all out.

The walk from the Leaky to Gringotts was similar in fashion - they were the center of a bubble of hush, the chatter swelling in their wake. Distantly, Harry wondered why he hadn’t had a guard before - being eleven and swarmed had been near traumatising, and this was very refreshing. He didn’t mean to, or really want to, but he felt his back and spine relaxing just a little.

Going up the marble stairs of Gringotts, unlike his previous times, was met with slight nods from the Goblin guards. The tellers dipped their heads, too, and Harry felt the tension coil in his bones again. The one they approached gave them a shrewd look even as he also gave them the sign of respect.

“Business?”

Splinter slipped a folded piece of paper - much too bleached to be parchment - across the counter. The Goblin read it, looked at them all for a moment, and then said, “Follow me.”

Harry trailed behind the other three as they entered a side he’d never been to, forgoing the dark tunnels and rickety carts that weaved between vaults for spacious, grand, golden halls and ornate doors. The farther they went, the more ostentatious it became, and Harry repeatedly had to jog to catch up, eyes too glued to every design and gem and precious metal, every suit of armor and priceless weapon.

Almost bowling Rune over in his distraction, Harry came to an abrupt stop as the Goblin led them through a set of double doors with -

With the Potter crest on them.

Harry paused, reaching out to touch, but (with an immense amount of willpower) did not. He shuffled past instead and stood between his guards again.

The teller left, but Harry barely noticed it as his attention was on a familiar face. “Griphook! Nice to see you again.”

The Goblin looked up from his parchment, one fuzzy eyebrow arching, and Harry couldn’t decide if it looked menacing or intrigued. Maybe both. Griphook’s eyes fell and his hand continued once more. “Mr. Potter, welcome back.”

Griphook dabbed the quilltip on a near cloth and capped the ink, setting both aside. “We at Gringotts wish you well on this birthday, your magical maturity. Please, sit.” Harry hesitated, finding only one chair, but neither Splinter nor Rune even glanced at it.

As he sat, a sharp-toothed grin split Griphook’s face, and Harry was _certain_ this expression wasn’t intriguing in the least. “And I am personally, as your account manager, pleased to see such a quick response; with you here, we can get all unpleasant business out of the way as soon as possible.”

There was a beat of silence, and Harry cleared his throat nervously. “Unpleasant business?”

“Quite so.” Griphook opened a drawer and pulled out a sizable stack of papers. “We must look over your identification, your accounts and inheritances, your investments, and the...items left by your... _parents_.”

Harry bristled; he didn’t like the tone with which Griphook had said “parents”. He took a breath and said, “What first, and how long do you think it might take? My...guards seem. Ansty.” Rune shifted next to him, but neither of the demons said anything.

Griphook’s lip curled, disdainful, but he carefully separated the first few sheets from the top of the stack and laid them closer to Harry. “Your...parents registered you falsely as a human, and as such, you must prove yourself worthy, first, of inheriting the Potter accounts without Potter blood.”

Opening a different drawer, his gnarled hand set a dark red, velvet covered box down with more reverence than Harry expected. Just as sweetly, Griphook lifted the top, revealing a dull gold ring with the Potter crest.

“Should you have had Potter blood, the ring would have appeared on your hand with your intent to interact, _should_ it find you _eligible_ \- which, as the last of the line, you would be, without question. However, as you are not a Potter by birth, you will need to manually put the ring on and...hope for the best.”

His grin was something Harry sincerely could have gone without at the moment.

He reached his hand out and stopped - within a blink, the ring was on his finger.

“I...guess I do have Potter blood.” Harry almost felt vindicated when Griphook’s mild surprise (he assumed it was surprise) soured his expression before the Goblin waved a dismissive hand.

“With your inheritances validated, we might skip your detailed accounts, inheritances, vaults, and investments and mail them to you later - for a price, of course.”

Harry almost rolled his eyes. “Of course.” Griphook waited, watching him with patient, dark, unfathomable eyes. Ah. “Yes, I’d like to do that. But, erm, how much?”

“Fifteen galleons; postage and privacy wards.”

Harry’s eyes almost bugged out. But… “Yeah, I’ll do it.” He tried very hard not to look at Griphook’s grin.

“Then all that’s left is the Memoriam Bequeathal.”

Harry blinked. “The what.”

“A quite outdated but effective package, left to another before death, with the express condition that it only be given after death. Unlike Willing an item or package to someone, where it might be contested due to squabbling or... _failure_ to meet relation-requirements, a Memoriam Bequeathal cannot be overturned or contested. Even should someone’s identity be falsified, they shall receive their Bequeathal.”

_Oh_. That was a worry Harry was glad he hadn’t had and still needn’t deal with; even if all else had been taken from him for not being a Potter by blood or ideals, at least he would have had something from Lily and James.

He frowned slightly as he gently took the package from Griphook. No, he would continue to call them his parents. Whatever had happened, they had died protecting him.

Griphook’s gravelly voice retrieved him from his thoughts. “This Bequeathal has been witnessed, and it is yours.” Strangely, Harry felt an odd _pluck_ on the edge of his senses, and he almost felt like the air pressure shifted. “May your gold return three-fold.”

Griphook stood, and Harry hastily did the same, realising he was being dismissed. “And, eh, may your returns be fruitful?” He tried very hard to keep the question out of his voice, and failed miserably if Griphook’s unsettlingly wide grin getting _wider_ was any indication.

Harry left Gringotts’ opulent halls, hands heavy with a waxed-paper wrapped package, heart heavy with trepidation, and head heavy with circling thoughts.

\---

“Your Highness, we approach the Portal.” Rune’s voice cut through Harry’s static-cotton brain, bringing him to the surface of awareness almost painfully. He looked over to find their head turned just enough to address him, but their eyes still watching the road. “It’s a jarring experience. Prepare yourself.”

Shifting in the back seat, Harry craned around the passenger’s seat to see the road ahead - normal ass looking road, if you asked him - before briefly unbuckling and shifting to the middle seat. This time, Rune’s eyes were on him as he snapped the new buckle in place.

They turned to face forwards again, and Harry leaned between the two front seats. Splinter was turning them left off the road onto a business’ gated drive, pulling up to a keypad. He watched as the man pressed more numbers than he expected, sending the window smoothly back up as the gate opened.

Rune shifted. “You may want to sit back, Prince Haven.”

Harry frowned even as he took the suggestion. “Can we at least _‘pretend’_ my name is Har-”

He involunarily choked on his own name as his body crossed the threshold - the building before them, the world around the car, replaced instantaneously by a kaleidoscope of colors; the car and Rune and Splinter and _Jesus Fucking Christ HIS HANDS_ were stretching infinitely forward -

And the world snapped back into place, his chest rattling in heaving breaths. “I’m gonna fucking vomit on - on both of you - I’m going to defecate in your _shoes_ -”

Harry scowled at the very crinkled, very _laughing at him_ reflection of Splinter’s eyes in the rearview. “Apologies, my Prince.” He did not sound apologetic at all. “It’s an acquired taste.”

Harry grumbled, “Acquire my ass,” looking out the window to distract himself from his queasy stomach. He did a double take. “Whoa, what?”

He switched seats again, looking out the window in awe. Trees like he’d never seen, twisting and winding artistically with an air of _natural_ into recognisable shapes - at least three birds, some horn sets, and he didn’t know runes but he’d bet half his “publicly known” inheritances that they were runes of some sort - and buildings with gothic architecture made from sleek modern materials filled both sides of the road. Harry looked past Rune and Splinter and saw a sprawling city below them as they crested a hill, a towering _castle_ in the center.

“What?!”

“Welcome Home, Prince Haven.” Rune turned to Harry. “This is Äddleruun, your birthplace and birthright.”

“Are we still in London?”

“Certainly not,” Splinter said aggressively.

Rune shot him a look. “ Äddleruun is somewhere between Taipei and São Paulo, sir.” Their gold eyes caught Harry’s. “It’s folded between multiple places, with select entrances; the one in London was opened only in response to your disappearance.”

“Not - not my, uh, parents’?”

“No. Their deaths were recorded in the Library, there was no need to search for them. You were still Listed among the Living, though no means could track you.”

Harry breathed in and held it a moment. “It broke with my magical maturity? Whatever kept me hidden?”

“As far as we can tell.”

Harry looked at the package from his human parents, tucked securely behind Splinter’s seat on the floor. He dug his nails into his palm and returned to quietly watching out the window.

[ _Just a little pinprick_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lsCEgcRozY)   
[ _There'll be no more, ah_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lsCEgcRozY)   
[ _But you may feel a little sick_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2lsCEgcRozY)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter song: Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd, covered by Scissor Sisters
> 
> this one took a bit to come out cos i was finishing up the art - but im double update with ch4 and ch5 because i double arted :;3
> 
> twitter: @yggimarauder


	5. Motions and Metaphors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> previously: harry has returned to äddleruun with a memoriam bequeathal from lily and james

__

[ _Reveal to me_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEJ3WRH3VAY)   
[ _The mystery_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEJ3WRH3VAY)   
[ _Can you tell me what it means?_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEJ3WRH3VAY)

The opulence of Cando Castle was both more and less than Gringotts’. The gold, warm hues that had brought to mind the magma and heat of the earth’s crust in the bank was starkly contrasted by the cool darkness of the castle. By no means was it dim in lighting - the amount of crystalline structures hanging and sprouting from the ceiling and walls was startlingly large, all producing an inviting glow - but the stone of the structure was varying shades of grey, medium to dark. Colourful rugs and tapestries, taxidermied trophies, and paintings broke the monotony.

Harry barely got to take in the entrance hall before he was swiftly led to a small room. It was as the door swung shut that he fully comprehended how _stupid_ he was - trapped in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar castle in an _unfamiliar plane of existence_ (only accessible with a password!!) with unfamiliar people - 

Rune’s hand clapped onto his shoulder, their natural form on display, and said, “I see you’ve finally woken up. We’ll beat some paranoia into you yet, Young Prince. For now, we all want answers.”

Harry took in a shaky breath, standing his ground despite wanting to shy away from them both. Splinter and Rune stood before two of four velvet-padded chairs, and he belatedly realised that they were waiting for _him_ to sit first.

He rushed to sit, setting the package on the low, round table between them. With a hesitant look at his guards, he carefully pulled the tied twine off. He noticed his hands were brown and shaking; he stopped and stared. It felt…not _wrong_ , but not _right_ either, to open this as “Just Harry”, the half Indian human boy from the muggle suburbs of England.

He took the medallion off and his now-grey hands didn’t shake.

The paper parted to reveal a simple black wood box, with a silver clasp and lock, silver hinges, and the Potter crest carved on the top. Harry swallowed, and reached out to touch it; the lock popped and fell off as soon as fingers met wood.

Nestled in formed black suede was three vials full of swirling silver; a convex, gem-centered medallion; and a dark, carved bowl of liquid.

“A Pensieve…” Glancing up at Rune and Splinter, he gently placed the bowl on the table. “Eh, I guess these are memories, but what’s this?” Harry picked up the coaster-sized medallion, turning it over to find a flat side.

“A visual-audio recorded message. Set it on the table and touch the gem.” Harry followed Splinter’s instruction, finger gentle on the red gem, and was instantly enthralled by the projected image above it.

Two people he’d only had the pleasure of seeing in a handful of photos and one haunting mirror sat side by side, the room around them not shown. Lily and James looked more human and more tired, and somehow more content, than anything else had shown him. Held gently in Lily’s arms was a baby, human-looking and asleep.

_That’s me. That’s my parents._

Harry let out a shaky breath.

_“Harry, my darling,”_ (and _oh_ , it was nice to hear her voice not _begging_ , not _screaming_ ) _“If you’re watching this, if you’ve received this Bequeathal -”_

_“Then we really sent it tits up and died, didn’t we?”_

Harry laughed when Lily expertly balanced baby-Harry in one arm to smack an unapologetic, grinning James.

_“Joking aside, we mean to be with you, as long as we can.”_ Lily’s eyes couldn’t decide whether to address the audience of the recording or the child in her arms. She settled on baby-Harry, stroking hair from his face. _“The most important thing is that we love you, as though you are our own - but you were...adopted. Sort of._

_“The memories we’ve placed with the Pensieve will better explain, but we don’t know anything about your biological parents.”_ From the corner of his awareness, Harry saw Splinter shift forward. _“We found you in the wreckage of a camp that had just been attacked - we don’t know what by, we didn’t stick around to find out, but your parents...probably didn’t survive.”_

Lily shifted, tucking her hair back when it slid forward over her shoulder. _“You’re a demon, as I’m sure you’ve seen by now. And...”_ She faltered, gaze glued to baby-Harry. _“We are so scared for you. We plan on raising you to the best of our abilities, to teach you what we can about your heritage, but if you’re watching this, then we haven’t been there for you for too long.”_

James leaned forward, intently staring at _real_ Harry, now-Harry. _“You cannot let the Order, if you know of them, if they’re still around, just know about this. The way they talk about Remus is - it’s - and, and he’s just a werewolf -”_

Lily placed a hand over James’. _“There’s prejudice on both sides, but for your safety, darling, please don’t let them know. At best, you would be outcast; at worst, I…”_ Her breath hitched, her arms tightened around baby-Harry, and Harry’s heart clenched. _“I fear the worst.”_

_“If you haven’t known of the Order of the Phoenix...it’s a - a, uh, task force -”_

Lily cut in, _“A vigilante task force against the encroaching Darkness, one we’re part of.”_

James seemed to mull over something before continuing slowly. _“We have agreed with a lot of their policies but we’ve had - doubts, I guess you could say, especially with the way they treat those who aren’t fully human. Having you here, our little light, has, eh, accelerated those doubts.”_

_“We love you, Harry, no matter who you are, who you were, who you become.”_ Lily’s unshakable love for him choked Harry, and this time Rune shifted on his peripheral.

_“Unless you, like, start murdering for fun.”_

_“_ James _.”_

Harry joined the man in his guffawing laughter. _“He’s a rambunctious kid! Lookit you, all sweet and asleep - but trust me, when you’re awake and angry? You, darling, have the screech a banshee could only dream of.”_

Both his human parents were smiling at baby-Harry, not nearly as put upon as they were pretending. Then Lily refocused on the recorder, and Harry held his breath.

_“Go, darling, and be safe. Watch our memories and know - just...know how_ **_much_ ** _we love you.”_

The image faded, the gem’s soft glow receding, and leaving them in the white-gold light of the crystal chandelier above.

Harry’s awareness was brought crashing back into himself, and he sat back, wings furled close, trying to hide his full body trembling. He was given a blissful few moments of silence before Splinter said, his gruff voice softer and kinder than before, “Your Highness, the memories.”

“Right.” Harry squared his shoulders and tried to relax. “Uh, we just pour ‘em in and stick our faces in, yeah?”

Rune smiled, “We could, but we wouldn’t mind letting you go first.” They shot Splinter a quelling look when he opened his mouth to protest. “These are yours, now, first and foremost. Just as this castle, this political position, and we are yours.”

“Wh- wait, ehr, I - I don’t _own_ you. What??”

“Rune is, perhaps, too excited by your reentry to Äddleruun; we aren’t owned by you, but we pledge ourselves wholly to you.” Splinter’s brown, intense eyes caught the crystal-light and shone with flecks of pink. “The Underworld has crumbled without a leader, and we have precious little time to prepare you for the role; Rune and I have willfully trained for the past decade to find and teach you what we can. The fact that you are Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived…” and Harry deeply appreciated the cynicism in the man’s voice, “ _complicates_ things, but we stand beside you, Prince Hav- Harry.”

Harry looked down, frowning at his hands. He hadn’t noticed that his fingernails were not only a deep, matte slate grey but also thicker.

“I...I don’t…” Harry looked away, fixing his stare on a crystal, following the spidering veins within. “I don’t want to be a leader. I don’t know how. And now two whole worlds of people want me to lead - _need_ me to lead.”

Rune’s hand was warmer and softer than he’d expected as they touched his. “We understand. We were expecting anyone from someone who’s never seen the world to someone who had seen too much. We were hoping to find you sooner, give ourselves more time; I cannot lie to you and say we didn’t also hope that you would be unknown in the human plane. But we are yours - we have trained for the opportunity to bring you to speed, and then to rocket you forward. We are Your Guards - we will stand with you until cut down, and we will protect you from what we can. We will advise you against mistakes you may make, and we will be confidants if you so wish.”

Harry’s chest was so tight it felt like he might implode; he had tried holding his breath to stave off the tears pricking his eyes and making his nose _already_ begin to run, but his first shuddering inhale broke the gates. He curled forward, clutching Rune’s hand, and sobbed into his knees.

He was orphaned twice over, son of Royalty, son of Vigilantes, son of Loss and Grief. He had been left with people who would rather him dead over alive too often. He had been thrust into three worlds - one of which cared not, one of which needed him with a capricious nature, and one of which had wanted him for his whole life. Now, unlike the Muggle world, unlike the Wixen world, he was finally, _finally_ not alone. His human parents had loved him, had _known_ him for what and who he was and would become. Rune and Splinter _wanted_ him, _wanted_ to teach him.

Harry had never felt such a level of acceptance, and it both broke and healed his heart.

He cried for a disappointingly short time, given how much his soul and mind ached, but let his breaths even out and his tears stop. He sat up, wiping his face as Rune sat back, and neither demon looked at him with pity or disgust.

“Sorry,” Harry croaked with a sniff. “It’s…a lot.”

“Understandably, Prince Harry.”

Harry cleared his throat. “I...I think you can call me Haven.”

Splinter, this time, held up a hand, stopping the notion. “You are both, but you have known only yourself as Harry. You can grow into Haven when you’re ready.” He shifted, brown eyes turning dark out of the light. “And...you do not need to watch these memories, yet.”

Harry shook his head. “We’ve all waited too long. Besides, you wouldn’t like the trouble I manage to get into when I get too curious.” His watery laugh was lost on both; perhaps they didn’t need to know all the danger their precious Prince had been in.

Reverently, Harry poured each memory into the Pensieve, watching the silver swirl like ink in water. Then he braced himself and pressed his face to the surface.

[ _Translate the symbols, enigma_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEJ3WRH3VAY)   
[ _Expressions keep questioning me_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEJ3WRH3VAY)   
[ _The message slips and the meaning is missing_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEJ3WRH3VAY)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter song: Sleeping Awake by POD
> 
> ::*
> 
> twitter: @yggimarauder


End file.
